1929
by katie-elise
Summary: It's 1929, the age of Prohibition, and Light’s job on the police force is to investigate all illegal speakeasies, particularly the infamous L, king of the underground booze joints populating the city of Chicago. LxLight and MattxMello.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Yeah, I'm a throw-back. Like, waaaaaaay back. As in, Frank Sinatra owns my soul. And so when I was watching Some Like It Hot last night (my favorite movie, go watch it nooooooow!!) and got the inspiration for this, I just had to do it. It's going to be a pretty long fic, I think, so stick with me. _

_Agh, I loooooooooooooove fedoras!!! AGH! Also, rating will increase with subsequent chapters, expect sexy confrontations and lots of underlying tension, LxLight and MattxMello on the side. _

_Review, and I will love you forever. And know that this is either a fantastic idea that I should work on with verve, or it sucks and the only person who will get pleasure from it will be me. _

_Disclaimers: I do not own Death Note or Some Like it Hot. _

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Light shrugged further into his overcoat as the infamous Windy City lived up to its name. He turned the corner of a skyscraper and walked full blast into the wind, the gale force gusts nearly ripping his stripped fedora off his head. Stepping around several snow banks built up against the curb, he fought with the wind to force an inconspicuous black door open, struggling again to pull it closed.

The sudden silence after all the roaring noise out on the streets set him off balance for a minute, and Light had to take a moment to collect himself in the dimly lit hallway, the snow starting to melt and drip from his shoulders. He really needed to invest in a better overcoat.

Finally the cold was seeping out of his bones, and Light had become accustomed to the indoor lighting and the relative silence. Sighing resignedly, he walked down the plushy carpeted hallway to the door with the frosted pane reading "Yagami Light, Special Unit Director". Entering the small, familiar room, he greeted his partner in crime-fighting, who went by the alias of Matt.

They gave each other a nod of long familiarity, and Light went to sit behind the unoccupied desk; the only other desk in the room being Matt's. Tossing his hat expertly onto the hat rack near the door, Light pulled his case files for the day from the inbox on his desk and set about addressing the city of Chicago's deplorable alcoholism.

Yes, it was 1929, the age of Prohibition, and Light's job on the police force was to investigate all reports of a violation, and, if possible, go in and arrest the perpetrators.

It was a thankless and nearly impossible job. An estimated 90% of the U.S. population was against prohibition, and it showed. He was constantly busting undercover booze joints, and the overnight jail cells were overflowing.

The police were truly hated in this day and age, Light contemplated. They were viewed as oppressors, limiting the populace's freedom and arresting half the country on the basis of a law that was having the opposite of its intended effect. By banning alcohol, the government had simply made it that much more desirable.

In an unprecedented turn of events, the roles of villains and good guys had become reversed. It was the smugglers, the bootleggers who were the heroes and respected men of the day. They represented the population's unrest; their desire to subvert a government that was denying them a simple pleasure to which they had become accustomed.

Deep in thought, Light didn't notice he was worrying the tip of his fountain pen between his lips until it was too late. Matt helpfully handed over the embroidered handkerchief from his breast-pocket so Light could mop up the mess, all without glancing up from his paperwork.

Figuring that the blue stain on his lip would disappear eventually, and that he didn't have a little lady to impress in any case, Light got down to business.

After quickly dismissing the first two case reports as frauds, Light lit upon the third, and definitely most interesting, file on his desk.

The 'L' case.

L, as he called himself, was the runner of the biggest underground bar chain in all of Chicago. Although it should have been easy to catch such a large operation, the police force had made zero ground on it, due entirely to L's genius.

The man was a master criminal. He only let slip information that he wanted to be known, and while the police found it impossible to locate even one of his 'establishments', patrons had no trouble finding an "L bar", or getting a hold of the password required for entrance. It was unutterably aggravating for Light, who had caught every criminal he'd ever set his sights upon. That is, every criminal except for L.

No one even knew what L looked like; it would be virtually impossible to arrest him without a witness confirming that he was in fact L, and even then they may be lying, or could be double-agents. The whole business gave Light a massive headache.

But this…this ragged sheet of paper was Light's salvation. With this information, so quietly placed on his desk by one of the many secretaries in his department, Light could finally solve his biggest case. With the reward money he would get for bringing in L, he could finally advance in the police force. Finally live up to his father's name.

Above all things, Light believed in justice, even if the population at large was against him. And now…now he had L's password, and the location of one of his smaller but more popular underground bars. Game, set, and match.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

L looked Mello over once more in the back room before he sent the boy out on stage. Mello's corseted mini dress, every inch of it covered with sparkling silver baubles, cinched in his already slim waist, adding curves to the illusion.

Tilting his head and considering the overall effect, L ran a bristle brush through Mello's hair to make it lay straighter, sweeping his bangs across his face.

Mello's extravagantly painted red lips smiled up at him, and sparkle-lined, mascara laden eyelashes fluttered. "How do I look?" he lilted in an airy, feminine voice not his own.

L pretended to seriously consider it for a minute. Then, digging a diamond-studded hair pin from his endless pockets, he pinned a section of Mello's hair back from his face.

"There, perfect. Go show them what they think they want".

And with that, Mello strutted out on stage to the bawdy roars of the drunken men populating L's smallest, and most frequented, establishment.

It was L's most popular underground bar for a reason, and that reason was Mello. He and L had joined forces early on, almost as soon as they'd heard of each other's existence. At first each had planned to have their boys off the other, before they had realized they could do better business together than alone.

L had the brains for the outfit, and Mello had the, well, it couldn't be called brawn, exactly…but the body, at least.

See, there was nothing men sipping illegal alcohol liked better than a little show with their demitasse. And Mello was the best show in the tri-state area. So L kept his actual gender under wraps, helping Mello dress in drag twice a night and sending him out to dance and wink at the patrons.

Everyone loved the little blond, and Mello had had more than one proposition from men smelling of brandy. His true gender was an even greater boon here; if some thug got a little too friendly, Mello could and would put them quickly in their place.

He was also L's best kept secret, one of those that he did not allow to seep out to the public. No one knew about Mello besides the customers of this particular bar, and L. L meant to keep it that way.

Unfortunately, it was getting increasingly difficult to keep his operation quiet. Other smugglers and n'er-do-wells were eager to assist in L's downfall and claim his fortunes for their own. Little did they know that L didn't do this for the money; he did it because he believed in justice.

And in L's world, justice involved the ability to indulge in whatever form of recreation you chose, as long as it didn't result in the harm of anyone else. In this vein, he never let his customers leave until they had been sufficiently sobered up; there were a variety of holding rooms in the back for just this purpose.

No, L did not think what he did was wrong, not by a long shot. And he certainly never thought he'd get caught. But when he heard Mello scream bloody-murder, high-pitched and still in character, he was forced to accept that, somehow, the police had found him.

And of all the bar's they could've of hit, they hit the one he and Mello were in. Just fantastic. Survival mode kicking into gear, L rushed out on the stage, grabbing Mello by his skinny bangled wrist. Glancing out over the crowd, he zeroed in on the person who was obviously the head policeman.

L recognized him from his extensive studies of his opponents biographies (it paid to stay informed); Yagami Light. L's eyes narrowed with pure hatred. The man was undeniably beautiful, and L loathed him on-sight. He was everything L stood against, and he vowed then and there that he would beat Yagami at his own game, even if it meant his own downfall.

But he although he was instantly dedicated to this mission 'til the end, he was not willing to risk Mello's safety. He glanced one more time at Yagami, and the detective's eyes met his own, the look in them equaling the abhorrence L felt. And then L dragged Mello offstage, pressing a specific knot in the floor boards with the toe of his wing-tip so that the hidden door to his secret escape tunnel creaked open.

Shoving a shaking, wide-eyed Mello in first, L quickly followed him, closing the door and slipping away into the dark maze that connected all of the funeral parlors in town, and therefore all of L's illegal booze joints. Nobody, not even the police, suspected the dead of harboring drunken fugitives. Except, it seemed, Yagami Light.

_A/N: I do not mean to suggest LxMello. It's more of a big brother relationship I'm trying to portray, but if you choose to take it another way, well, go for it. _

_p.s. ...I freaking love Mello's outfit!!! :D_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: It was mentioned, quite rightly, that L's idea of justice was pretty weak. So I thought I'd explain his point of view a little better :) I actually like this chapter quite a bit. It's fun to get into the anti-government mind-set. Anyway, have fun!! ;)_

Chapter 2

As L ran through the underground tunnels connecting his illegal bars, an exceptionally gorgeous drag queen in tow, he had to contemplate the events that had lead up to his life at this point.

L had technically become an orphan at a young age. One of his first clear memories was of the night the police came for his parents; L had lain on his thin tick mattress, eyes round as he stared at the crack of light coming from the other side of his bedroom door.

He heard his mother screaming and his father swearing, and loud, rough voices he did not recognize. When a big burly policeman burst into his room, L was so frightened he couldn't even move. The man had roughly picked him up and carried him out to the rickety black police vehicle waiting out back. He never saw his parents again.

L didn't know why his parents had been arrested; though he had always wondered why his mother could afford all the diamonds she wore while they lived in the squalor of lower Chicago. Even as a child, he was very observant. After his parents were behind bars, L was bumped from foster home to foster home, never staying in one place for long.

He was a brilliant student, but didn't often go to school, as he was moving around too often. Therefore, he took his education into his own hands, reading every tattered book and scrap of newspaper he could get his grimy hands on.

In very short order, he developed a healthy loathing of the government, and, more specifically, the police.

Story after story in the papers young boys hawked from the corners was about the arrest and confinement of some person or the other; people who L thought would have been more useful to society if they were not behind bars.

People were considered criminals for the most ridiculous things; if someone with dark skin drank out of the wrong fountain, they were thrown in jail. A small, starving girl stole a loaf of bread for she and her mother, and the mother was arrested, the girl placed in foster care or an orphanage.

It was a horrendous system, jailing and fining people who had done nothing wrong, or had been driven to crime by desperation because the government refused to help them.

When he was still fairly young and hot-headed, L had termed this 'un-fair'. Later he realized it wasn't just unfair, it went against the theory of justice.

People who's crimes were scarcely even criminal were 'brought to justice' by the police, and although the police did convict actual criminals, it was still a corrupt system. And in L's mind, the only way to fix the organization was to throw it over and start from scratch. He could create a new justice, one that didn't arrest little boys' parents and promptly forget about the boys themselves, conveniently forgetting about them as they were shuffled from family to family.

So maybe L had a bit of a grudge against the police force. But he figured that his hatred was there for a reason; it couldn't be purely emotional prejudices driving his despising of authority. No, definitely not. L was a calculating, methodical person. He would never let his heart overrule his mind.

At least, this is what L told himself as he fell into a life of crime, quietly subverting the police. His ultimate goal was to crack the force; to create such a strong presence of illegality in Chicago that the department broke under the pressure, confusion, and aggravation of it all.

So when the government had imposed Prohibition, L knew this was his big chance. He could drive the police force to the brink by creating a huge, pervasive, and undiscoverable chain of underground booze joints that they could not find with all their effort. This was the reason he had chosen funeral parlors to house his bars. It was a somber, serious environment where good, law-abiding citizens wouldn't expect a rabble-raising illegal alcohol trade to be going on behind hidden panels and secret rooms.

The police would never be able to find him, and the tension and exasperation would tear them apart from the inside. And once they police were in shambles, L himself would step out of the rubble to take over.

It was one of the main reasons he had kept his identity secret for so long. If the police didn't know what he looked like, he could easily join them under a different alias after the force had fallen apart. No, not join them. Control them. The Chief of Police. It was perfect.

Except now Yagami Light, the son of the current Chief of Police, had seen his face. At an illegal bar. Even if the so-called "Light" didn't know that he was L, his chances of ruling the police force were dashed. And L suspected that Light did indeed know that he was L. There had been a look of realization in the man's gaze when their eyes had met earlier that evening.

Which meant that Yagami Light either had to die, and soon, or L had to give up on his dream of introducing new justice to the world. As L wasn't one to abandon his goals, he decided, as he and Mello finally reached a set of dirt stairs leading up to a funeral parlor next to the train station, so Light had to die. It was regretful that someone must be killed, but Justice must prevail at any cost.

Of course, L himself would not do the deed. He had minions for that. He swiftly strode over to the wardrobe in the corner of the back room they had emerged in, throwing standard civilian clothes over his shoulder at Mello, who was already stripping out of his corset and wiping the makeup off his face.

Mello broke the silence they had held since they entered the tunnel. "Where are we going to go?"

L gave him a look. Usually Mello never questioned L; he just followed his instructions, trusting L to do what was best. But L decided that Mello deserve to know. "Florida. They'll never expect it".

Certainly not, Mello thought to himself. "Excuse me, L, I'm going to go use the bathroom before we get to the train station", and he disappeared into the funeral house proper. L let him go, although it was against his better judgment. Mello was acting strangely.

One short hour later, L and Mello were ensconced in a small bedroom on a train headed down to Florida. L had made the phone call that would send his hired men to end Yagami Light's life. Once all of this blew over, he and Mello would return from their little 'vacation', and their plan could continue as before.

It was perfect, and entirely unpredictable. No one would follow them to Florida, and especially not the police. L leaned back on his bunk, congratulating himself on a crisis averted.

Three train cars away, Light was congratulating himself on a fantastic lead. Another anonymous tip had been left on his desk, and he had gotten to it just in time to catch the train that L was supposed to be on. Normally he wouldn't so immediately trust a tip-off, but Matt had come out and confided that he personally knew the informant, who wished to remain anonymous for safety reasons.

So Light had decided to follow the tip, dragging Matt along. The boy could use some more hands-on experience, and it would be useful to have another set of eyes and ears.

Stretching languidly, Light laid down on the top bunk, Matt already asleep in the bed below. He couldn't wait to catch L, and once that business was done, maybe he would stay in Florida for awhile, basking in the sun and the feeling of having served justice yet again.

_A/N: GASP! Light is onto him!!! Oh noes! Also, Matt and Mello will hopefully get some more character development soon __


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: So, I'm leaving to study abroad in Ireland on Tuesday (*glee glee glee excitement*) Which unfortunately means I probably won't be updating much for the next month. However, I intend on using the plane ride both ways to write ideas and outlines for stories, so expect some good stuff upon my return! And who knows, maybe I'll find a friend over there who shares my yaoi fangirl tendencies! :D Here's hoping. _

_Also, side note, definitely watched the BBC Pride & Prejudice tonight with my friends. AGH MR. DARCY/COLIN FIRTH I LOOOOOVE YOU! Especially after jumping in a pond. *cough* In addition, I am going to read the newly published _Pride and Prejudice and Zombies_ by Jane Austen and Seth Grahame-Smith on the plane. I've read a bit already, and it's fantastic, I highly recommend it. _

_All my love, review and receive Mello's dress!! ;)_

Chapter 3

Mello waited until the sound of L's breathing in the bunk above him became low and even, and then he waited some more. When he was finally sure that L was fast asleep, he slipped out from underneath the covers, making his way over to the suitcase rack and pulling his bag from its shelf.

He thanked his lucky stars that one of the few things that could lull L to sleep was the swaying movement that came with traveling by train. Unzipping his bag as quietly as he could, Mello rifled around until he found what he was looking for. More specifically, the sparkling, corseted dress he'd been wearing before the police raid.

It was certainly too formal for his current situation, but he didn't have any other girl clothes, so this would just have to do.

Mello stripped out of his pajamas and began wriggling into the short dress; it was a lot harder to get on without L helping him, but he finally managed it. Still, the corset laces were much looser than usual, meaning that Mello did not benefit from his normal waist cinching. In addition, he didn't have any make-up with him, and it was too dark to get a good look at himself in the mirror.

Anxiously, he ran his fingers through his hair, hoping to make it lay a little flatter. Still, without all the usual accessories, the overall effect was that Mello looked rather less like a girl, and more like a skinny blond boy wearing a dress. Oh well, it would have to do.

Mello slipped the sliding door to he and L's compartment open, tip-toeing into the hallway (no mean feat in silver stilettos), and closing the door very, very slowly. He pressed his ear to the wood, listening for noises that meant L had been awakened by his leaving, but after several minutes of silence, he moved on down the hall.

In an odd way, Mello decided, walking on a train in heels was easier than walking in them on solid ground. His hips naturally swayed with the rocking, which helped him achieve a more feminine form of locomotion.

Perhaps he should always do his secret drag shows on trains.

Then again, perhaps not, he thought as the car gave a violent lurch, sending Mello sprawling on the plushy carpeting. He lay there for a minute, more surprised than hurt.

Then, a hand entered Mello's field of vision, and a gentle voice said, "Need help?"

Mello graciously accepted the pro-offered hand, allowing himself to be helped up to a standing position. He plastered a girlish smile on his face, ready to thank the man and move on down the corridor, when the train again hit a rough patch, launching Mello forward into the person's arms.

"Whoa, there, steady. Why are you wearing heels on a train anyway?" Mello was already embarrassed, what with having his face pressed into this stranger's sweater, and their arms wrapped around him, so the question only served to annoy him.

He was forming a truly scathing reply as he disentangled himself, pulling back to face his helper, and then his retort died in his throat. "Mattie!"

This time it wasn't the train that propelled Mello into the other man's arms. "Hey there, Mells. How goes the scheming? Was it hard to slip away?"

Mello sighed in contentment as Matt's nose nuzzled the top of his head. "Mm, wasn't too hard. L sleeps really well on trains."

"Ahh. So, our plan still holds, then?"

"Yeah, L and I are going to get to Florida, settle into the hotel, and then I'll get away so you and I can meet up and…" Mello experienced a fit of shyness and blushing.

Matt finished for him, smiling. "…elope. That is what you want, right, Mello?", he asked, tilting Mello's head up so that their eyes met.

Mello nodded enthusiastically, not trusting his voice.

"Okay, then. And I'll leave Light one last note, letting him know the name of the hotel and L's room number."

The idea of betraying L so made Mello cringe, but he just couldn't see any other way around it. If he and Matt were to escape, L needed to be distracted, and certainly nothing would distract him like being arrested. Mello had a distinct feeling L would not approve of his choice in men, seeing as Matt was technically the enemy.

However, although he hadn't told Matt this, Mello fully intended on springing L once he and Matt were settled. He wished the man no ill will, and in fact quite cared for him.

But ever since he had first laid eyes on Matt, who was going undercover as a customer at one of L's bars, Mello had known he would give up anything and everything to be with him. It was, for lack of better words, love at first sight. Mello cringed at being so cheesy, but it was none-the-less true.

And every stolen minute with Matt since then had only served to confirm his adoration; Matt was kind, but with enough edge to keep Mello guessing. And hopefully to keep him from running full speed in the other direction when he found out Mello was a boy.

Yes, that was one, _minor_, detail that Mello had chosen to over look. There was no doubt that Matt loved him back, but as a girl. Mello simply dared hope that over this next week or so he could make Matt so in love with him as to not mind when Mello revealed his true gender.

Pushing his difficulties to the back of his mind, Mello hugged Matt tightly once more, slipping the piece of paper he'd scrawled the name of the hotel on into Matt's hand.

He turned to leave, but Matt held his wrist, pulling him back quickly and planting a swift, slightly desperate kiss on his lips. Mello's eyes widened in shock; the closest they had gotten up til this point had been hugging.

Then, as quickly as it had happened, it was over, and Matt rushed away down the hall, face flushed.

Mello stared after him, warmth radiating through his body. He really hoped that Matt was open to the idea of eloping with a guy.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Hi everyone!!!! Sorry for the delay, I'm back from Ireland now! :D It was awesomesauce. Also, I am not quite as sick as I was. Super-special-awesome._

_I started out not liking this chapter, and it was really hard to write the first half, but the second half started flowing. I'm having issues with personal articles and Mello's drag act...so I'm sorry if that gets confusing, but I try and use 'she' when Matt is thinking about "Mel", and 'he' when Mello is...thinking about himself? Kind of. _

_I'm sooooo excited about the next chapter...Raito and L finally meet! Sorry for the lack of them in this chapter, just didn't fit. And if you don't know who Tommy Dorsey is, well, shame on you! Go listen to some of his stuff, prefereably with Frank Sinatra. _

_Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note. Or Some Like it Hot. **(-- watch this. It totally inspired this fic, and is my favorite movie EVER. There is cross dressing, make outs on yachts, big band awesomeness, men in heels, and Marylin Monroe. Doesn't get any better, kids)**_

_Sorry for the long A/N! Love you guys! Rinse, Review, Repeat! 3_

Chapter 4

When Raito stepped off the train into the sunlight, he was happier than he had been in years.

Here he was, in Florida, and closer to catching the illusive L than ever. He smiled up at the sun, basking in the glorious warmth and the smell of the sea breeze.

Chicago was his home, his one true love, other than justice, but the city was a real bitch in winter. It wasn't called the Windy City for nothing, and the weather was positively brutal when it got cold.

Yes, Raito admitted to himself, he was a summer boy, addicted to laying on the beach and getting a tan. And hey, if he could do that and catch L at the same time, he would happily leave Chicago for a few days.

Raito distractedly threw his suitcase at Matt; the other man caught it with some difficulty, attempting to carry both his own luggage and Raito's while also haling a cab.

Several minutes and a few life threatening intersections later, they arrived at their ocean side hotel. When Raito first caught sight of it, he contemplated purposefully taking several weeks to locate L, just so he could remain in this amazing setting.

The hotel was, in truth, more like a glorious mansion resort. It was sprawling, with turrets and towers, and a luxurious wrap-around porch populated by elderly millionaires in white wicker chairs. To add to its charm, the hotel was very happily situated on a small cove, providing its guests with a private white-sand beach and some docks where schooners waited to transport their owners out to the many yachts anchored further out.

It was exactly Raito's cup of tea. Very posh, rich, decadent…a romantic atmosphere in which to finally solve his most important case and catch the criminal all Chicago was after.

He and Matt made their way up the wide front stairs, Raito tipping his hat to the elite old men sipping mimosas on the porch, and Matt just trying to not fall over under the weight of their combined luggage.

The inside of the hotel did not disappoint; it was even classier than the outside. The light pink and green flowered carpet was so thick you could lose your shoe in it, the furniture was all white washed or wicker, and gorgeous frescos depicting palm trees decorated the walls.

Raito's favorite part was the awe-inspiring white gold and crystal chandelier.

Matt's favorite part was the complimentary box of cigars the door boy delicately balanced on top of his tower of bags.

When they finally reached their 7th story room, Matt immediately threw the bags on the floor and collapsed face down on the nearest bed. Raito, on the other hand, threw open the shutters and surveyed the view. He grinned widely; even being pinched in the elevator by some half-blind coot on the way up had failed to ruin his mood.

"Matt, I'm going to go down to the beach to…uh…see if L is sunbathing. It could be essential to his identification and eventual capture."

"Mmmrff"

"I'll take that as a 'what a genius idea, I think I'll go down to the lobby and keep an eye out for L there"

"Mmmrff"

Assuming that indicated Matt's assent, Raito grabbed his swimsuit and swim cap and headed for sand, surf, a red striped beach umbrella, and hopefully one of those mimosas.

Oh, and some undercover work.

As soon as Matt heard the door close behind Raito, he was up and moving. He'd arranged to meet Mel on the docks, and, glancing at his gold pocket watch, noted that he had very little time to get there.

Stripping out of his travel clothes in a rush, he of course managed to get his winter-in-Chicago appropriate sweater stuck on his orange pilot goggles. Ahh, flying. How he missed it; the whir of the propeller, the air whipping his hair in his face hundreds of feet above the ground, and above all, the feeling of freedom…

He'd given all that up when he joined the police force. But now…now there was Mel, and Matt was abandoning his job. Maybe…just perhaps…Mel would like airplanes…they could fly all over the country together…

Agh! Here he was building castles in the air, and his sweater was still stuck on his head! Matt ripped it off, hastily replacing it with an airy linen shirt and a black and white striped vest. His goggles went around the crown of a black fedora, and he was ready to go.

Peeking his head out the door to ensure that Raito wasn't lurking in the hall, Matt managed tosneak out of the hotel undetected, setting a brisk pace through the fading sunlight to stand at the end of one of the wooden docks.

After some time listening to the salt water lap at the wooden piers, Mel had still not shown up, and Matt was starting to worry. What if she didn't love him? What if she had changed her mind?

Anxiety getting the best of him, Matt turned to his favorite form of stress relief; hot wiring. Yeah, he was on the police force. So what? That didn't mean he didn't know how to hot wire a vehicle. In fact, he HAD to know, so he could better understand how criminals did it. The fact that he did the same illegal activity as said criminals in his spare time was besides the point.

Well, there weren't any automobiles in the near vicinity, so Matt turned to the next best thing; the small motorboat docked right near his feet.

In short time, Matt had almost forgotten he was even waiting for someone. A motor boat's wiring was a bit different than a car's, and he was having trouble getting it to go in anything other than reverse.

Finally, he hit the right wire combination, and the little boat roared to life. Grinning in triumph, his head lurched up in surprise at the sound of someone languidly clapping, and there was Mel.

She was leaning against one of the supports, dressed resplendently in a full length, sparkling silver evening gown. She raised one eyebrow at him and spoke, "Theft, Matty?"

Matt smiled sheepishly. "Nah, I wasn't gonna take it. I just like hotwiring stuff. You know, gives me something to do with my hands".

The gorgeous blond carefully lifted the edge of her dress, navigating her way down the steps of the dock and to the side of the small watercraft. Hiking the skirt up to an almost indecent level, she stretched one long leg into the boat, then the other, and soon Matt found himself wrapped in a warm embrace.

"I can think of a few other uses for your hands as well", Mello purred in his best girl voice. Matt flushed up to his hat, an article of clothing which Mello swiftly removed, smiling to himself. Yes, this was going wonderfully.

"oh…really?"

"mmhmm" Mello murmured, gently placing Matt's hands on his waist and leaning in for a kiss.

For a second Matt was bashful, and then his mind was full of the beautiful creature before him, his lips occupied with hers, his arms tightening around her, one wending its way up to find a hold in the mass of thick gold locks, pulling her into a deeper kiss, the other slipping down, lower and lower, tugging a bit at the hem of her dress as he pressed closer in…

And then Mel was breaking from the kiss, breath coming shallow and quick, her hand gently removing his and tugging her skirt back down.

_Dammit, Matt,_ Mello thought to himself, _believe me, you're not ready to know _that _much, not yet. _

Mello smiled sheepishly, wondering how to explain his sudden break away, and deciding to simply change the topic.

"Want to go dancing? I heard that Tommy Dorsey is going to be playing in the Rose Room tonight…"

Fortunately for Mello, Matt was all too familiar with girls attempting to preserve their honor, so he chose wisely not to question, and instead scrambled out of the boat, holding out his arm for Mel, who took some degree of time getting out of the boat while keeping her dress from riding up too far.

They walked in companionable silence to the Rose Room, the biggest ballroom the hotel had to offer. It was famous in its own right; decorated in beautiful shades of red, tan, and green, with live roses climbing trellises all around the walls and pillars. There were roses in crystal vases on every table, and the dance floor and stage were both made of the finest rosewood money could buy. The air was pleasantly scented with the smell of all the flowers, and every place setting contained an edible, sugared rose. Of course, Tommy Dorsey deserved no less.

The music hit the two men like a wave as they entered through the gigantic French doors. Mello's foot immediately began to tap; Big Band music was his _thing_. Matt smiled over at his companion, noting the way her head and hips swayed to the swell of noise from the brass section.

Matt scanned the room out of long habit as an undercover cop, and it took all his training not to pale and faint on the spot. There was L; it could be no one else, with that head of hair, standing just outside on one of the balconies. And there, across the room, seated at one of the low tables, was Raito, his eyes trained on L's silhouette.

Glancing back to where L had been, Matt discovered that the man had moved out completely onto the balcony. Raito, it appeared, had discovered the same thing, as he smoothly pushed out of his chair and weaved his way through the swaying couples and out onto the same terrace L had vanished to seconds before.

A quick look determined that Mel had noticed none of this, as she was quite occupied scoping out the table that would seat them nearest to the band.

Matt waged a short war in his head, swiftly determining that Mel's happiness was more important to him than the potential of being caught and arrested for subverting the law and being a traitor.

Pasting a lopsided grin on his face, he led Mel over to a booth with a good view of Tommy Dorsey, sliding in next to her and offering a hurried prayer that they wouldn't attract too much unneeded attention.

"Matt?" Mello glanced up at the other man through his long blond bangs, fluttering his eyelashes a bit for effect. "Let's dance".

Matt saw the sparkle that suddenly lit Mello's eyes, and relinquished any hope of flying under the radar, instead once again offering Mel his arm and leading her onto the dance floor.

_Oh, p.s., Matt is a pilot in his spare time because I needed a semi-legit exuse for someone from the 20's to go around wearing goggles. :P Review? I love you. :)_


End file.
